


Provocative

by irishlullaby13



Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: Abbie in a micro skirt y'all, Established Relationship, F/M, Gratuitous Smut, Naughtiness, gratuitous showing of ankles, lovingly dedicated to tumblr's ichabbie fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-16
Updated: 2016-09-16
Packaged: 2018-08-15 06:40:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8046124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irishlullaby13/pseuds/irishlullaby13
Summary: In Ichabod Crane's day a lady revealing her ankle was considered quite scandalous.  o:)





	Provocative

In Ichabod Crane's day a lady revealing her ankle was considered quite scandalous. Although he had accepted Betsy wearing trousers, she had generally donned proper boots to cover her ankles to prevent uproar. His tiny Lieutenant, however, did not. 

Certainly he could accept that standards had changed over two centuries and had thought nothing more of it. He could even accept that the height of fashion in this modern era was a thousand fold more relaxed than what he had been accustomed to. What he couldn't accept was one of those tiny, black leather, “micro skirts” on his petite fellow Witness.

It hugged her luscious curves and... he wasn't even going to dignify the little lift her _high heels_ gave her glorious backside when she tried to reach a book from one of the Archives' top shelves. He licked his lips when she pushed up onto her toes to replace the book and grab another. His eyes roamed upward from the tiny knots of her ankles to her calves, flexing and relaxing as she moved. 

Next he reached the back of her knees. He knew for a fact he could render her to a sobbing, orgasmic mess just by spending all of his time _there_ kissing and nibbling the sensitive skin just above the bend—more so on the right than the left. He tried to shake away the mental image of his hands squeezing her bare backside whilst he did just that very thing.

“Lieutenant,” he said stiffly, pretending to be engrossed in something else when she turned to face him with one delicate brow arched.

“Hmm?” she hummed as she walked over with several books to place them on the table.

“Is there are particular reason you have decided to wear such _finery_ today?” he asked. “It seems hardly appropriate should we have need to make a run for it.”

“Just felt like looking cute today,” the Lieutenant said with a shrug. He could see a little smirk appearing on her lips. She knew exactly what he was thinking. He warranted she had been trying to get him to think said things when she made herself ready that morning. “Are my ankles distracting you again, Captain Crane?”

He stood behind her, bringing his lips to her ear. “Very much so,” he whispered. “Permit me to demonstrate.”

The Lieutenant set the books down and peered at him with amusement. “Please do, I'm curious about why you find my ankles so sexy that you are concerned about us having to run for our lives to cover up the fact you're turned on.”

Ichabod knelt down behind her. “You see, Lieutenant... unlike this modern era which inappropriately sexualizes the bosom... the revealing of one's ankles could lead to a world of deviance and debauchery.”

His Lieutenant laughed softly as she playfully rolled her eyes. “I'm listening.”

His fingers traced her ankles then trailed up the back of her leg. “If one endeavours to move further up you have the delectable curves of the calves to contend with. So much beautiful skin to cover with kisses.” His large hands skimmed around to explore her shins and knees before sliding upward to her thighs. “Whilst many would then praise the perfection of the thighs... I would like to point out that, since my day, it has been discovered that _here_ just above the bend of the knee, on the back, there is an incredibly sensitive span of skin...”

Ichabod placed soft kisses to the spot he was discussing. The Lieutenant swore softly and leaned her weight against the table, pushing onto her toes so she was bent over the surface. He ran his hands up her thighs, under the skirt. “And lets not forget the thighs... never _ever_ forget the silken thighs....” he breathed against the hot swell of her backside as he dragged the scrap of lace under the skirt, down her legs. “You see, Lieutenant... the ankles are the gateway to some of the most delightful sins... Because a man might be tempted to taste the nectar of the lady's sweetest bloom...”

“Dork,” she tried to scoff, but it came out as more of a breathless sigh. However, that didn't stop a loud groan from escaping her lips when he returned to teasing that spot on the back of her knee with his lips and teeth. Abbie slapped the table top several times when his mouth moved up the back of her thigh. When he pulled back she gave an annoyed sigh. “So are you tempted?” she asked, raising herself just enough to look over her shoulder toward him.

Ichabod pushed the tiny skirt up and over her backside, took the delightful mounds of flesh in his hands. He licked his lips and murmured with appreciation. “I am, I am,” he replied.

A tiny squeal escaped Abbie's lips when he leaned in to gently lave her folds with his tongue. She hated when he was a tease. And by hate, she meant loved. It was one of the little surprises that she hadn't been expecting when they first became lovers. According to him, the Quakers had not been as closed minded as she had thought about sex—it of course went in cycles like everything else and the ideology she was familiar with was more the mind set of early Victorian Quakers, where as the ones from his era were more the “keep your partner happy in the bed” types that had a very short list of things they should strive to not do. On the flip side, they felt what happened in the marital bed, behind closed doors, was no one's business.

Apparently Ichabod was an eager subscriber to just about everything on the “try not to do this” list and Abbie loved him for it. But dammit it... it also drove her crazy in the best sort of way. The ~~best~~ worst thing about it was he had a habit of getting her in situations where her feet didn't quite reach the ground so she couldn't escape his roving mouth if she wanted to. So her only choice was to let herself get caught up and lost in the way his tongue made soft circles around her clit before his lips latched on and sucked with just enough pressure to throw her to the edge.

Ichabod murmured something that sounded a lot like “I could die happy doing this” against her sensitive flesh. It sent her into her first orgasm, drenching his beard with her juices. 

Abbie curled her fingers against the hard wood of the table, resting her forehead against the surface as she panted for breath as Ichabod clamoured to his feet. “Well, you're good at it,” she said breathlessly. “And you enjoy it.”

He placed soft kisses between her shoulders while his fingers made quick work of the buttons of his breeches. A soft kiss was placed on the back of her neck. “I enjoy it because you love it so,” he murmured, nuzzling behind her ear with his nose. “But, back to my demonstration... If a gentleman sampled the delights of the lady's _flower_ \--” Abbie giggled. “By all means be amused by the fact, in my days, we would be wilfully meandering our way into hell right now...”

Abbie schooled her features into one of mock seriousness. “Of course... So what would happen if my man sampled my delights?” Her eyes twinkled and she had to stifle a snicker.

“Oh, at that point... _your man_ would be sorely tempted to fall completely into sin and tend to the rest of her garden,” Ichabod whispered hotly against her neck as he positioned himself.

Abbie threw her head back and let out a load moan when he pushed inside of her, burying himself to the hilt. Ichabod squeezed his eyes shut and bit back a groan of his own. “Dammit,” Abbie hissed, smacking the table top. “You're so damn hard...”

Ichabod massaged the flesh of her backside as he slowly withdrew then thrust back inside of her. Her hips tilted and her thighs parted to accommodate his hips between them. His lover had already been reduced to biting out small swears but her position assured that the only thing she could do was hook the toe of her shoes around his legs and enjoy the sweet torture.

“You just wait until I get you back to the house,” Abbie groused. “I'm going to handcuff your ass to the bed... and then I'm gonna ride your cock the way _I_ want. I'm going to make sure you can't do anything to speed things along. You god damn tease.” She grasped for the edge of the table and tried to push back against him.

“Me? A tease?” Ichabod asked. “You misunderstand again, my darling treasure.” He delicately pulled her tight curls away from her neck to kiss her heated skin. “You see... if two people had just so wilfully walked into hell as we have... there is but one way to assure the Lord would forgive our transgression...”

“Oh?” She had intended for it to come out as a query, instead it came out as a soft moan.

“Indeed, my love,” he murmured. “If the gentleman is _tending to his lady's garden_... the only way it can be forgiven is if they are both writhing from culmination...” he paused briefly. “... to assure his seed is planted in her garden _of course_.”

“ _Of course_ ,” Abbie echoed. “Your seed has already been planted, so this is just all for fun.”

Ichabod's movements faltered. “What?”

“Get to the writhing already god dammit!” Abbie demanded. “Please...”

The implication of what his love had said slowly sank in. There was but one way to free up her concentration so he could inquire further. He grasped her hips and began thrusting into her rapidly, illiciting some of the most delightful sounds from his lover he had ever heard. Abbie clawed at the table top and bowed her body to meet his every movement.

“Don't stop, baby,” Abbie squealed. “I'm so damn close...”

It wasn't long before they were meeting release together. Ichabod peppered kisses along the back of her neck and shoulders while Abbie lay spent against the table top, panting for breath. “What was this about my seed having already been planted?”

Abbie laughed softly. “Can't get anything past you, can I,” she commented. She pulled one of his hands to her cheek and placed kisses on his palm. “Went in for my yearly yesterday. One of the tests they did was a pregnancy test. They called me early this morning and said I was pregnant. They want me to come back in to confirm and all, but, when I looked back, I realized all the signs were there so... odds are...”

“You are with child,” Ichabod stated, finishing her sentence.

“Is that okay?” Abbie asked quietly.

“It is more than okay,” Ichabod said softly. He kissed the side of her neck then her jaw. His free hand slid between her and the table to cradle the gentle curve of her belly. “A child with you would indeed be the greatest blessing of all.”

Abbie hummed with contentment. “You know, I'm going to be wearing my skirts as long as I can, so you need to learn to curb your reaction to seeing my ankles.”

“I have taken your suggestion into consideration and have decided that I shall curb nothing.”

“Fair enough.” She turned her head enough to briefly meet his lips with her own. “I think, maybe we need to get back to our research before Jenny gets back with lunch.” She slipped off of the table when he pulled out of her. Abbie turned to face Ichabod and put her hand on his cheek. “We're not telling anyone until we know for sure... not even Jenny.” He nodded lightly. She poked his chest. “And I'm still going to do what I threatened when we get home.”

“I look forward to it.”


End file.
